


the bracelets that tie us together

by starbooms



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Caretaking, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Temporary Amnesia, all the homies hate adam FUCK adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29924283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbooms/pseuds/starbooms
Summary: Kojiro decides that he’ll do everything within his power to take care of Kaoru until his memory returns. Then again, it's not hard for him to come to that decision.Loving Kaoru has always been his favorite thing to do, after all.(Alternate Ending to EP 9 where Kaoru experiences temporary amnesia after his race with Adam).
Relationships: Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom
Comments: 14
Kudos: 253





	the bracelets that tie us together

“Joe, you need rest.” 

Kojiro presses a button on the coffee dispenser and watches, rather listlessly, as the cup fills up with murky instant coffee. He doesn’t turn to face Shadow. Instead, he grabs his cup. His eyes fall to the red corded bracelet on his wrist. His stomach twists into a horrible, ugly knot. 

“Joe,” it’s Miya now. He turns, feeling a tug on the back of his jacket. Miya’s incredibly small. Which is a silly observation, Joe realizes because Miya’s a kid. Of course he’s small. Miya’s eyes are red and sunken. Bright and wide with fear, and worry, and anxiety. For all the coyness he likes to play-Miya’s emotions are painted clearly on his face.

He’s scared.

So is Joe. He’s, hopefully, better at hiding that though. 

“I can’t.” because when Kaoru wakes up, which he has to. Kojiro won’t allow him to never wake up again. That’s simply _not allowed_. Kojiro needs to be there. Kaoru has to see him first. 

He doesn’t take a sip of his coffee. His fingers curl around the cup and he’s reminded of the bracelet on his wrist once more. 

“You won’t be any good to Cherry if you’re ragged,” Shadow makes sense. And Kojiro hates that. But Kojiro can’t bring himself to sit down. Not yet. Not until the doctors say they can go in and see Kaoru. Not until he knows and gets confirmation that tomorrow the sun will rise and with it, Kaoru will see another day. 

_I’m going to kill Adam._

It’s the same thought that’s been swirling around and around in his head since Kaoru was taken to the ER. Adam’s a horror. An abomination. Kaoru still believed Adam could be saved. But you can’t save someone who’s willing to damn themself to kingdom come. Kaoru can still hear the sickening _crack_ of Adam’s board connecting with Kaoru’s face. 

Over and over. He hears a door slam, it’s replaced with the crack. He hears a chair squeak, it’s replaced with the crack. If he closes his eyes, it’s the same horror movie. He can’t rest. Not when he doesn’t have a sliver of peace to grasp onto until he sees and hears and feels and knows that Kaoru is ok. 

Joe exhales. It’s shaky. He ruffles Miya on the head. “Don’t you have school tomorrow. You shouldn’t be out late. Shadow,” he starts. Shadow looks like he knows where he’s trying to go and is ready to protest. Kojiro won’t hear any of it. “Take him home, okay?”

“Joe, we're not _leaving_ you here by yourself,” Shadow protests. He stomps forward until their nose to nose. “Cherry’s our friend, too. We’re hurting, too.” he growls. Kojiro's never been intimidated by Shadow. He’s not now. He feels his anger though. His frustration at the situation and the near hopelessness they all have to wrestle with until the doctor comes back out. 

Miya removes Kojiro’s hand from his head but doesn’t let it go completely. “We should sit. I’m tired of standing around.”

The three of them sit. Joe’s still holding Miya’s hand and Shadow’s on his phone tapping away with lightning quick fingers. 

“Texting Snow and Reki,” Shadow explains, showing Kojiro a text message thread with the three of them. “I’m not sure if either of them will see but I’m letting them know.”

“Ok,” Kojiro feels incredibly tired once he sits down. As if all the burden and stress he’s carried while standing has nowhere to go but down. Down under his skin. Down into the fibers of his bone. Into the strands of his flesh and all he can do is just, sit with it. Sit with the growing pit in his stomach of nerves and anxiety. Of anger and wondering what would happen if he went back down to S and showed Adam what it felt like to get assaulted in the face with a skateboard. 

Miya squeezes his hand, and he calms. “Thank you,” he says, casting a tired gaze towards Miya.

Miya doesn’t look at him, pointedly staring at the tips of his shoes. “I’ll start freaking out if you freak out. So keep it calm.”

The clock behind them ticks and ticks and ticks. The vending machine whirrs quietly beside them. There's a sound of commotion far off down the hall. Scattered chatter and the sound of gurney bed wheels scruffing linoleum floors. Kojiro focuses on all the sounds, and not the one of his skyrocketing heart rate. He’s not sure how much time passes. With the three of them sitting there. Shadow on his left. Miya on his right. Shadow’s shoulder pressing against his. Miya’s small hand in Joe’s big one. 

“Party for Sakurayashiki.”

Kojiro’s the first to stand. He slips his hand out of Miya and strides over to the doctor. 

“How is he? Is he ok? Can I go see him?”

He knows he’s speaking faster than what the doctor can probably answer or keep up. But he doesn't care. He needs to know. He _has_ to. 

The doctor smiles, but it’s strained and tight. The pit in Kojiro’s stomach expands into a gaping, jagged chasm. 

“Physically, he’s fine. And he’s awake and regaining consciousness as we speak. However, we have some other... concerns.” 

“What’s wrong?” Kojiro feels like he’s going to be sick. There’s a grim glow above their heads from the flickering ceiling lights. The vending machine continues to whirr and whirr but it sounds louder than last time. The clock ticks and ticks but it makes Joe flinch with every passing second. 

“When he woke up, he couldn’t remember who or where he was. This may just be temporary,” the doctor quickly explains but Kojiro’s not really hearing. It’s not really clicking. He feels clammy and hot and cold all at once. “But the amnesia may also last quite some time. I wanted to give you the forewarning, for when you go to see him, and offer advice for moving forward.” 

The chasm within Kojiro grows. It swallows him whole. 

He doesn’t know what to do. He’s at a standstill. And he’s never liked not knowing where to go or where to turn. Then his instincts kick in. To stuff down the panic and to forget about himself because Kaoru’s the one in that room probably scared out of his mind not knowing who he was or where he was or- _who I am_. And that guts him. Guts him so terribly. He feels a burning behind his eyes. 

Miya’s beside him. So is Shadow. Their presence is a comfort and he finds himself coming back down from his spiral-if only a little bit. 

“Can he go see him?” Miya asks. He’s so quiet. God, he’s never been this quiet before. 

The doctor nods, “He can.” Then their eyes meet, and Kojiro stands up straight like a bolt of lightning hit him. “If you are up to it. This is sudden news for you too. And you are allowed to process it however you wish. When you’re ready, feel free to go see him.”

They turn and leave, the sound of their footsteps echoing as they go. Until it’s Kojiro and Shadow and Miya and the door that separates them from Kaoru. Kojiro hasn’t prayed in a while. Hasn’t felt the urge to get on his knees and ask God for deliverance. The urge is here. Incessant and nearly brings him to his knees before the door to beg and plead for divine intervention. 

But he can’t. Not now. No, now, he has to go. He has to see Kaoru. He hands Shadow his coffee and touches the red bracelet on his wrist for grounding. Wordlessly, he goes for the door. Wraps his hand around the handle, and slides it open. 

Kaoru is sitting up. His head is turned towards the window. Kojiro feels like all the wind and courage has been stolen right from under him. He wants to open his mouth and say hey. Be loud and obnoxious but he’s… scared. 

Kaoru turns. Their eyes meet but there’s no recognition in those golden eyes. There’s no relief. There’s no joy or even annoyance. It’s blank. 

Kojiro is going to _murder_ Adam. 

“Who are you?” Kaoru gives him a once over before frowning. “Can’t be a doctor. Not when you’re dressed like that.”

Kojiro feels the burning in his eyes intensify. He wants to break down in this moment but he refuses. Not now. No. He slaps on a smile instead. Strides over and makes himself at home by the chair at Kaoru’s bedside. “Would you believe me if I said I am one, I’m just cosplaying?” 

“That’s disgusting and unprofessional.”

At least this part of Kaoru hasn’t changed. His blunt behavior is so oddly familiar. Joe feels something crack within him, but he’s not really sure what it is. 

Maybe, it’s everything. 

-

Kojiro decides that he’ll do everything within his power to take care of Kaoru until his memory returns.

There are some things that haven't been completely forgotten. Like Kaoru’s love for technology. Or rather, his love for Carla. 

“I made this?” Kaoru’s voice was full of awe. Kojiro had helped him sit and then it was game over. Kaoru _gushed_ . He rubbed his hands up and down the arm rest. Whipped his head around to admire his masterpiece. “I’m a _genius_.”

“And incredibly humble,” Kojiro had snorted. 

Morning comes again. Morning has come about twenty-one times and every morning is a blank slate. Kojiro rolls off the couch. All his muscles pop and creak and ache. Kaoru’s upstairs in their-his bed. Kojiro absently plays with his bracelet as he pads into the kitchen to start making breakfast. 

Breakfast will be simple today. Some toast and eggs. Going through the motions of cooking helps Kojiro slow down the rapid pace his thoughts plan to go when the morning starts. Routine, the doctor told him, is good. Routine helps to lay the groundwork for building back up what was forgotten. 

“You can’t force him to remember,” the doctor urged and Kojiro couldn’t help but laugh because he knew that would be impossible. Hadn’t stopped him from considering it. “Be slow. Be patient. Take and think of each new day as another chance he’ll remember something. Even a small remembrance is something to celebrate.” 

“If you’re frustrated, imagine how irritated Kaoru has to be,” he’s been saying this over and over since Kaoru came home. “It’s a new day, Kojiro.” He reminds himself In hopes that maybe, maybe, it’ll grant him some peace. 

“Smells good,” Kaoru’s gotten used to navigating around with Carla 2.0. The doctor said he’d been wheelchair bound for another another week or so. Adam did a number on Kaoru but it wasn’t irreversible-thank goodness. 

Carla softly purrs as he rolls over to the table. Kojiro’s brain supplies him with a memory of mornings past. Where Kaoru would wake up, groggy and full with sleep. Where he’d pad over to Kaoru who’d be in nothing but sweatpants. Cooking by the stove. Kaoru would wrap his arms around his middle and fall back asleep against his shoulder for a few seconds, but the smell of food would keep him awake just enough so he wouldn’t miss out on being served. 

Kaoru bites down on the inside of his cheek. _Be present. Be here._

They eat breakfast together in silence. The first day that happened Kojiro couldn’t finish his meal. He excused himself to go to the bathroom and sob. 

Today, the silence is easier to bear. He’s learning that small talk doesn’t have to be so nerve wracking. He doesn’t have to scramble to find words to fill up the space. That when he’s quiet, it’s not necessarily because the dread is rising and Kaoru will suddenly say “I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be in this space. I want to go somewhere else. I want to leave.” 

_Be patient. Be slow._

“All your meals have been really good,” Kaoru sips his tea. 

Kojiro’s heart swells with pride, “Thank you! I’ve been cooking for years now. It’d be pretty bad if I wasn’t stellar at it, no?”

“You said you have an Italian restaurant?”

“Yup.”

Kaoru takes another sip of his tea, “What made you do that?”

He’s been asking questions sporadically in the expanse of silence. Some days it’s rapid fire questions. Kaoru’s still a sponge for information. A vacuum for knowledge. He can’t stand not knowing things. He can’t stand not knowing how the pieces of a puzzle go together. Joe’s been more than happy to answer his questions when he comes. To work around the stabs of pain that comes up when he recounts a memory between them only to be met by Kaoru’s blank, analytical stare and curt nod. 

Kojiro brings his own coffee mug to his lips and takes a long, needed sip. “Well. You did, I guess.” he answers nonchalantly. His eyes dart to the window. It looks sunny outside and when he checked the weather earlier, the temperature was nice out that maybe a walk would be good. He’ll have to ask Kaoru about that later. 

“That’s been a common theme with your answers,” Kaoru drums his fingers along the rim of his mug. His eyes narrow. “I ask _why did you do this_. And you respond _haha, well, cause of you I guess._ I know we were dating-” 

" _Are_ dating,” Kojiro corrects before he can stop himself. Then immediately regrets it. Kaoru snaps his jaw shut. Fuck, he shouldn’t have said that. Dread fills his stomach. The silence grows so thick, he can feel it crushing him. “Sorry,” he apologies quickly. “Sorry I didn’t. You’re, continue.”

“No I… apologize,” Kaoru shifts awkwardly in his chair. 

They both look away from each other. Empty plates and half drank mugs remnants of a moment that could have ended calmly. Ironic, really. Even when Kaoru doesn’t have all his memories and their relationship is now in a limbo, they always manage to come back to butting heads. 

_Maybe that’s our love language_ , Joe thinks. _Clashing and colliding._

“It’s ok,” he decides to keep going. To keep pushing through the awkward silence. Because they have to, at some point. They can’t keep letting the silence win. Can’t keep letting not knowing how to navigate this odd space of remembering familiarity and failing to the unknown win. “It’s not all because of you, you know. You’re just a big motivating factor. I only say you play a big part because, recently, I realized younger me was madly in love with you. And everything I did was with the hope that one day you’d love me too.”

Being honest is something Kojiro genuinely feels no aftermath from. No nervous wrecks or breakdowns or anxious spikes. Especially when it came to Kaoru, who would not accept anything less than straightforward and honest intentions. Now, in this moment, Kojiro feels like he’s about to hurl. And that’s not incredibly sexy. 

He watches Kaoru, waiting for a response. All he gets is a slow nod and Kaoru sticking out his mug. 

“More tea, please.” 

Kojiro smiles crookedly, “Coming right up.” He takes the mug and goes to fix Kaoru another cup. As he’s pouring the tea into the mug, Kaoru’s soft voice cuts through. 

“The first thing that came to mind when you told me that was: _idiot, you never had to try so hard._ ” Kojiro’s heart stutters. His eyes wide. And a few tears fall down his face silently. 

Birds chirp outside his window. The smell of breakfast still lingers, as well the smell of green tea freshly poured and steaming-the heat rising and hitting his nostrils. 

Kojiro hates this. He really, really does. 

-

He decides, against Shadow’s advice, to tell Kaoru they were lovers a week after Kaoru was back.

“Do you enjoy setting yourself up for failure?” Shadow hisses, gripping Kojiro by the collar. “Telling him you’re lovers isn’t gonna bring his memory back any sooner! You’ll only hurt yourself!” 

“He asked me last night why we were living together,” Kojiro replies flatly. “He said ‘ _honestly you’re not an ugly guy. Girls must be fawning all over your greasy pecs and muscles. I can go elsewhere so you can enjoy your bachelor lifestyle_ ’ _._ ” his voice shakes but he remains rooted. Shadow’s jaw slackens. His grip loosens and he takes a step back. “I had to tell him,” he finishes quietly.

“Ok,” he stomps over towards some of the plants. Kojiro fixes his shirt. And exhales very, very slowly. Counting to ten (a trick Reki had taught him. “When my anxiety acts up, and I feel like I’m gonna burst, I count to ten,” he told Kojiro. “It brings me back to center. Maybe you could try it?”) does wonders. He’s already at four and feeling less like he’s going off the deep end when Shadow returns with a pot of peonies. 

“Are you trying to propose?” Kojiro jokes.

Shadow scrunches up his face, “Gross. And be tied down to your messy ass? I’d rather shove dynamite up my nose! Take this,” he hands over the pot and Kojiro takes it. “Peonies symbolize good health.” 

Kojiro’s staring down at the flowers while Shadow’s words wash over him, and seep into him, and hit home and finally click. He gives Shadow a questioning look. It’s still so weird seeing him in his normal, civilian attire amongst plants and large open windows that let in all the sunlight the sun has to offer. Shadow’s jaw is set tight. His eyes have bags under them. He looks tired and weary. Like how Kojiro feels. 

“Such a softie…” Kojiro mutters, his lips pulling into a tiny grin. “Why not give them to him yourself?” 

“Shut up, I don’t wanna overwhelm him,” Shadow sniffs, rubbing his nose. He walks back behind the counter and leans against its frame. “When you’re ready to have us into your space, I’ll come. I’ll bring the boys too. I told them to keep the contact to a minimum,” he nods, “until you’re ready.” 

And there’s this big emphasis on _until Kojiro’s ready_. Which feels weird and grating because Kaoru’s the one with no memory. “What does it matter if I’m ready?” he blurts out. Fingers curling tightly around the pot of plants. “I’m not the one with no memory. Or in a wheelchair. Or bandaged to kingdom come. Or-”

“Nanjo,” hearing Shadow say his name snaps Kojiro back into focus. 

He breathes heavily, unaware that his voice had gotten higher. That the people in the store were now looking at him and whispering. He doesn’t feel a flash of hot shame because he’s really, truly tired of feeling. He’s numb and tired. His shoulders sag. 

“Sorry. I… I don’t understand, as all. Why how I feel matters.”

Shadow’s expression softens, “Kaoru’s not the only one suffering. Nanjo, you’re hurting too. This? Not having your lover in his entire capacity-that’s pain. That's a pain you have to work with. And you’re taking care of him too? Man,” Shadow shakes his head, “I feel bad for you. You’re in such a shitty situation.”

Kojiro growls, “Are you trying to make me feel better? Because it’s not working.”

“I’m just saying!” Shadow’s quick on the defense, “It’s hard on the both of you. And your feelings matter just as much as Cherry’s do. So yes, when you _are also ready_ we’ll come by. But not until you need us.” 

Kojiro nods tightly, jaw locked. “Yeah… yeah ok.” when he turns to go, Shadow’s next question stops him. 

“If… his memory doesn't come back.” Kojiro turns around. Shadow’s not looking at him. He’s fiddling with some flowers though he’s not really doing much with them. “If his memory doesn’t come back,” he starts again. “Will you still stay?” he looks up at him then, eyes swimming with emotion, “Will you still love him?”

His throat gets tight then. And he says so fiercely and loudly, without care that the customers will look at him, “Of course. I’ll never stop loving him. Even if…” his shoulders deflate, and he looks down at the green and pink peonies. “Even if he doesn’t remember that he loves me. Or never comes to love me again, I’ll never stop loving him.” 

He looks at his red bracelet. The corded string that represented their promise all those years ago that they’d always be tied to each other through it all. It's that promise that gives him strength to keep going. 

Shadow nods, pleased with Kojiro’s response. “That’s what I thought… now go on. Get home. And go like, wash your face or something. You look like shit.”

On the way home Kojiro replayed Shadow’s words over and over again. He was hurting too? Well yeah, obviously. There wasn’t a night since Kaoru came home that Kojiro didn’t retire to the couch and bawl his eyes out until he was so exhausted he passed out. And yes when Kaoru looked at him like a stranger rather than a companion he felt his heart twist and turn as the knife plunged deeper and deeper without remorse. He was angry and tired and held back snapping at Kaoru because it’s not like it was his fault he suddenly couldn’t remember shit! That was Adam’s! 

But to allow these feelings to have space? When there was someone else he loved so dearly, so passionately, who was in a worse situation than he was? How could he allow himself that moment to grieve and also feel as well?

He cried on the way home. Which, at this point, was really nothing new. 

And later that night when he finally told Kaoru they were lovers. And he waited for the typical blank stare, the lack of recognition, the sign that his efforts had failed. Kaoru had commanded Carla to wheel over to him. Had looked him dead in the eyes, and growled. 

“I can’t believe you fucking kept that from me. You should have _told_ me. I said such insensitive shit to you and you-and we.” Kaoru shook his head, at a loss for words. There was bile and heat rising up in Kojiro’s throat. This was the first time Kaoru was so angry. It was so familiar it ached. “Don’t. Keep shit like this from me because you think I need to be babied. Don’t hurt yourself because of me. I hate that. I _hate it_.” 

“I’m… sorry,” Kojiro is breaking. He feels it. A steady, gradual cracking at the seams. 

“Promise me you won’t do it again.” 

Kojiro doesn’t know if he can. He’s never not considered Kaoru over himself. 

“ _Kojiro_.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair to his name on Kaoru’s lips but the meaning and tone don’t mean the same. Don’t carry the same weight anymore. Fuck, this sucks. 

But he knows, memory or no memory, Kaoru’s ridiculously stubborn. He wouldn’t budge until he got an agreement. So he nods. 

“Ok. I promise.” 

They stare at each other. Kaoru’s gaze is inscrutable. A pointed dagger at Kojiro’s chin. Finally, Kaoru wheels himself back. Space settles between them. And Kojiro remembers he needs to breathe. 

“Good,” comes out quietly. Kaoru nods. Kojiro’s not sure if Kaoru does that for himself or for them. “That’s good.”

-

“The weather’s nice today.” Kojiro fixes two glasses of his world famous lemonade made by lemons he had Miya pick up for him at the grocery store. 

Kaoru plays around with his straw. Turning it around and around in his glass, “Let’s go outside.” 

Kojiro finishes the last of his drink, slurping extra loud the last pieces of juice. Kaoru frowns and mutters a “disgusting,” that has Kojiro smiling despite himself. “Yeah? Normally you’re a creature of the night. If it’s too bright outside you start hissing at the sun.”

“I _do not_.” 

“You totally did.”

“Shut up and take me outside. And don’t forget my umbrella!”

Kojiro snorts, cleaning up the glasses and putting them into the sink. “Yes, your majesty.”

Going on walks with Kaoru is actually a highlight of Kojiro’s days, when it’s possible. It’s disgustingly domestic. Everything that Kojiro goes gooey over. They walk around town. Going by different shops. Stopping every once in a while when Kaoru gets distracted by something and asks a bajillion questions to the shop owners. 

He asks Carla things like route the distance from the bakery to the apartment. He’s no longer in the wheelchair but he still has her as a bracelet on his arm. Right above his yellow one. (Which Kojiro noticed a while ago that Kaoru has never asked about, but has always kept on. His heart stutters at the implications). Asks her what the weather is going to be like tomorrow. Asks her if there are any events going on in the area. 

To which she replies, “There’s a skating competition occurring down at the skatepark. Estimated time of arrival is five minutes.”

“We’re going.” Kaoru doesn’t even wait for Kojiro to agree before he’s hustling down the street at near mach speed. 

Kojiro barely catches up to Kaoru by the time he gets to the skatepark. He’s been hesitant to show Kaoru anything skating related. He didn’t know if that would be a trigger. But watching the way Kaoru’s eyes grow wide, and the light shine so brilliantly. As he literally watches tears form and well and then cascades down Kaoru’s face watching the people skateboard. He wishes he would have taken him here sooner. 

“Kojiro,” Kaoru whispers his name and sticks out his hand to the side.

Kojiro’s eyes grow wide. Kaoru shakes his hand impatiently, demanding Kojiro move quickly. He does and slides his hand into Kaoru’s. Holding on tightly. 

They stand and watch the skaters skateboard for hours and hours. Until the sun sets and Kojiro’s walking back with Kaoru in tow. He notices, pretty excitedly, that they’re still holding hands. 

“I miss skating,” Kaoru's voice shakes. It’s low and full of gravel. 

"You'll be back before you know it," Kojiro becomes strong for the both of them. Using whatever reserved strength he has left to do so.

-

  
  


Kojiro finds he enjoys taking care of Kaoru.

He really, really does. Warmth swells in his chest whenever he can do anything for him, even the minor things. Like waking up in the morning from the couch and padding up the stairs to wake Kaoru up. Like brushing his hair while his arm recovers. Being sure to brush through enough times that all the knots come out. 

It’s a little selfish though, Kojiro admits. He used to stroke Kaoru’s hair all the time. During the day, absently, when the two gravitated near each other and he could indulge in a little touch. In the mornings, when they’d wake up next to each other and Kojiro would bury himself in Kaoru’s hair because he could. Much to Kaoru’s annoyance. 

He enjoys giving Kaoru baths, too. 

“I can do it myself,” Kaoru fusses. He’s sitting in Kojiro’s bathtub. Sliding down into the bath until his nose is covered by the water.

Kojiro chuckles. He squirts some lavender soap into the bath, watching as it mixes in and the scent of lavender rises with the heat. “Of course you can. And I respect that.”

“Then leave me alone.”

“Absolutely cannot do that,” he lights up a few candles. They’re vanilla sugar scented! His smile is all dopey while Kaoru looks at him warily. “While you’re still wearing that cast, I’m gonna keep helping you out with bath time. Also it’s for purely selfish reasons. Cause I like looking at you naked.” 

Sometimes Kojiro allows himself to slip back into normalcy. To their routine where he flirts and Kaoru isn’t having any of Kojiro’s cheesy seduction. Where they’d dance around each other until somehow, someway, their lips find each other. Over and over. They managed to come together. In the midst of bickering and banter, they could never escape wanting to taste each other. 

Kojiro’s smile turns sad, his chest tightening as he moves so he can sit behind Kaoru. He washes Kaoru’s hair first. Indulging his fingers in moments of old. He takes a good moment to just soak in Kaoru’s image. His wounds are healed, thank goodness. Scars remain but that’s not too terrifying. Scars are expected-though they should come from wipeouts and not from sick, blue haired bastards, Kojiro frowns. 

Slender shoulders and a flushed neck. Kaoru has beautiful hair. Whenever he would watch Kaoru put it into a ponytail as they got dressed for S, Kojiro made sure to bite down on the back of his neck. He couldn’t help it, he’d say with laughter after Kaoru swatted him away. Kaoru was beautiful. Every inch of him was magnificent and Kojiro was a self-proclaimed connoisseur for aesthetics and beauty. 

As he washes, he takes his time to massage and kneads every inch of Kaoru’s body. He wasn’t lying when he said this action was, while very much for and about Kaoru, selfish reasons. He hasn’t touched Kaoru intimately in a month. Kojiro’s love language, he discovered rather quickly since Kaoru’s injury, is physical touch. Not being able to engage in Kaoru’s space the way he used to was maddening. It physically _ached_. 

Giving Kaoru a bath and being able to touch and feel and care upon the body he’s gotten to learn every little bit about for years is Kojiro’s attempt at self salvation. 

“What are you thinking about, Kojiro?”

“Hmm…. nothing much. Just how pretty you are. And how much I,” he stops himself short. No, he shouldn’t keep going. He doesn’t want Kaoru to feel any guilt over not remembering their relationship. Kaoru’s memory has been coming back slowly. He remembers his love for skateboarding and, despite Kojiro’s warnings, has started skating again. His body remembers more than anything else. While he can’t do a lot of his tricks (Carla helps a lot), he’s able to do a lot of the basics and that was incredible in and of itself. 

But other things, like their history. Like Adam. Like S. Like the past couple of months. Those are incredibly spotty and vague to Kaoru still. A part of Kojiro’s brain violently whispers “Maybe he loves skateboarding more than you. And that’s why he remembers his love for it quicker than his love for you.”

The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth every time it rears its ugly head. 

Kaoru turns his head around, and Kojiro looks down at him. He’s staring at his lips. Resisting the urge to kiss him that rises up within him every time he attempts to go back to this familiarity. 

“How much you what?” Kaoru asks quietly. 

“How much I love you… as all.”

There’s a loud, incessant banging of his heart against his ribcage as he says what he’s been holding in for so long. He’s still holding on to Kaoru’s arm. The one where the yellow bracelet resides. And he thinks, as he looks down at his own hand that has the red bracelet, how desperately he wants to go back to the day they got them. 

He can’t bear to look at Kaoru. Can’t bear to see the shock that stems from not knowing how to handle these feelings he used to know so well. Can’t bear to see Kaoru quickly fix his face, steel his emotions, and pragmatically navigate the confession like he used to before they got together. 

Kaoru shoots up from the bath. The water splashes from the sides of the tub. He climbs out and grabs the robe by the door. “I. Need a moment.”

And that’s worse. Seeing Kaoru leave. Watching his back disappear. Kojiro’s shoulders shake. He brings his hands to his eyes, sucking in a sharp, shuddering breath and cries. 

-

Later that night, Kojiro wakes up to find Kaoru hovering over him.

“Is everything okay?” Kojiro asks as he sits up, voice heavy with sleep. 

“No.” Kaoru takes Kojiro by the hand, the one with the red bracelet around its wrist, and without another word drags him upstairs. 

“What’s wrong?” Kojiro’s not sure what to take about this as they stand in his bedroom. “Are you struggling with sleep again? Carla should be a-” he gasps in surprise as Kaoru cuts him up with a sudden kiss. Kojiro’s eyes widen as he feels Kaoru curl his fingers around his neck. Kojiro slips into the kiss. Falls into it. Lets his arms fall onto Kaoru’s lips, fingers digging and pulling him closer as their kiss turns messy and sloppy. A lot of tongue, a little teeth, and all desperation.

Kaoru pulls back, a thin line of saliva popping off between their lips. His cheeks are furiously red, but his gaze is even angrier. “ARE YOU A FUCKING MASOCHIST?” He punches Kaoru in the stomach.

“Oof!” he steps back from the punch, rubbing his stomach. “Kaoru what the _fuck_ was that for?” then his eyes fall on the bed. There’s a photo album opened. He recognizes that photo album. It’s the one he had made for their first anniversary after they came back from Paris. A tiny photo album but every page was filled with the polaroids they’d taken over the trip. 

Hope starts to bloom. Rising from the grave of his desire for Kaoru to remember. Sprouting and blooming and taking root in every fiber of his being.

Kaoru’s nostrils are flared. His lips are bared in a snarl and he’s stalking towards Kojiro again. Kojiro flinches when he sees his fist raised, prepared for another hit that never comes. Instead, there’s a warmth on his cheek. He opens his eyes and instead of fire and heat and anger, there’s tears. Kaoru’s _crying._ His shoulders shake. Kojiro bites his lip, glancing down at Kaoru’s good hand-the one with the bracelet-cupping his cheek. 

“Idiot. Fucking _idiot_. You buffoon. We promised to be there for each other. That nothing would ever tear us apart. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep that promise up at the expense of yourself,” he hisses and Kojiro’s hope explodes. He wraps his arms around Kaoru’s waist, hugging him as tightly as he dares. 

He goes to speak but instead he gasps, feeling his tears coming. Burying his face into the crook of Kaoru’s neck as they both cry in each other’s arms. 

“I couldn’t leave you, Kaoru. I couldn’t. I had to be there for you. I wanted to. But it was so-”

“Shhh,” Kaoru tenderly strokes the back of Kojiro’s head, turning his face to kiss the side of Kojiro’s face. “I would have done the same… I’m loath to admit.” he grumbles and Kojiro laughs weakly into his neck. 

“You remember.” he says, tired. 

“I do. After your confession I… had to. Take some space. Then I found the photo album and started going through the pictures from Paris. That’s when I happened to glance down at my bracelet and everything came flooding back to me.”

“We got them in Paris,” Kojiro whispers.

Kaoru hums, “They were the most inexpensive thing we bought while we were there.”

“That’s not true. Those croissants were dangerously affordable.” 

“Thanks to my haggling skills,” Kaoru jokes. 

“You going to the counter and asking the coffee barista to give you ten croissants for the equivalent of 500 Japanese Yen and you’d accept nothing else is _not_ haggling.” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

The two chuckle. Kojiro feels his tears continue to run, hot and wet down his face. He sobs again. Because he didn’t imagine the day would come where they could reminisce like this. He thinks back to Shadow’s words that day in the florist shop. 

_“Your pain matters too.”_

“I was so scared,” he allows himself to admit. 

Kaoru leans back enough so he can kiss Kojiro’s tear stained cheeks. So he can kiss his forehead. So he can press their foreheads together as he exhales shakily, his own tears still falling. 

“I’m here now, ok? All of me, I’m here.” 

He lifts Kojiro’s hand and kisses his wrist with the bracelet on it, never breaking eye contact with Kojiro. Then, Kaoru slides his fingers into Kojiro’s hand and leads him to bed with him. 

“No more sleeping on the couch,” Kaoru mutters, resting on his side. Kojiro lays behind him, spooned against his back. Arms wrapped securely around Kaoru’s middle, minding his bandaged arm. “You’ve hurt yourself enough.”

That night is the first time in a long while that Kojiro finally gets a good night’s rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> literally as i was writing this i was like "LMAO WHEN WILL THIS BE OVER WHEN WILL THEY BE HAPPY" and now, here we are. a happy ending because that's what these two deserve. hope you enjoyed :)!


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